


Locked

by pinecovewoods



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, Race is sneaky, but with good intentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinecovewoods/pseuds/pinecovewoods
Summary: It's winter in New York, and a bad one at that. So bad, that the Newsies of Lower Manhattan have been stuck inside the lodging house for two and a half days, and many were starting to go stir crazy.





	Locked

It's winter in New York, and a bad one at that. So bad, that the Newsies of Lower Manhattan have been stuck inside the lodging house for two and a half days, and many were starting to go stir crazy.

"Okay, game time!" Race calls from the common area, foot steps bounding down various flights of stairs to join him. 

Race splits the newsies into two separate groups, one made up of the younger kids and one of the older. He sends the younger kids into one of the bedrooms with a deck of cards, closing the door as the last boy enters.

"Aight, now it's time for the real fun," he says, lips twisting into a mischievous grin.

"Why do I suddenly feel like I should go back to my house?" Davey asks, nerves flashing across his face. 

"Oh it'll be fine," Race tsks a bit, walking over to one of the few cabinets in the lodging house, "just a harmless game."

The blonde pulls a key out of his pocket, unlocking the door and pulling a bottle out, turning around with another sickening smile on his face.

"To make things interesting," he says as he holds up the bottle of whiskey like a trophy.

A collection of cheers can be heard round the room, all except for Davey, who looked terrified.

"Ah, c'mon Dave," Jack shrugs, sliding an arm around the boys shoulders in good spirits, "it's nothin' new, Y/N does this with us all the time, ain't that right, Y/N?"

"Much too often for it to be appropriate," the girl chimes, leaning back half against the wall and half against Albert, "but someone's gotta be here to reign you boys in."

"Uh huh," Albert rolls his eyes, "not so sure that's what was happenin' last time."

"Shut up," she retorts, shoving the boy teasingly.

"What are we playing?" Davey asks.

"A little o' this, little o' that," Mush responds, "mainly spin the bottle, mixed with a bit'a truth or dare and seven minutes in heaven. Depends on who it is and what we feel like."

"Who wants to go first?" Race asks, pulling the top off of the bottle with a pop. 

Several rounds later almost everyone of the newsies is at least a bit tipsy, and many of them had taken turns in a secluded closet off to the side. 

"Aight, Y/N," Race smiles, "it's your turn. Whadda we's feel like, boys?"

An overwhelming chorus of 'seven minutes' comes from the others, the girl's eyes widening.

"That didn't work out so well last time," she hiccups, "I think I scarred poor Buttons for life."

"Can't help the fact that I ain't 'ttracted t' girls," he shudders over dramatically, causing the other boys to laugh.

Finch presses his lips to his boyfriend's cheek, smiling as he pulls away.

"Guess it's a good thing you's got me then."

A few fake-gagging sounds fill the circle, and another round of laughs follow.

"Aight, aight," Race takes charge, calming everyone down, "back t' the matter at hand, who's we sendin' Y/N in with?"

"Should be a surprise," Jack says, a mischievous grin stretching across his face, "put her in, then we's can decide."

"No," she says, "nope, not happening. I don't trust you. Any of you's."

"Sorry doll, it's ain't your choice," Jack teases, "that's the whole point of the game."

"God, fine," she relents, standing from her seat and walking into the closet. 

She stands in the dark long enough to think that they're going to just keep her in there alone, and then suddenly the door is wretched open and someone is shoved inside, darkness falling over them all too soon.

"I swear to god you boys make my life as difficult as possible," she sighs, straining her eyes to try and make out who they sent in.

"It wasn't much of a discussion," Albert speaks, "they's said my name as soon as Race locked you's in 'ere."

She swallows.

"Lemme guess, Jack's the one who said it first."

"Yeah he..." Albert trails off, "how'd you know that?"

Cause I told him I like you after we got drunk one night.

"Just a guess," she lies, leaning against the wall, "this is weird, ain't it."

"Given the fact that this is a game to force two people t' make out," she thinks she sees him shrug in the darkness, "yeah, I suppose so."

She rocks back and forth on her heels, contemplating her words as they stand in silence.

"Hey, just so you's know," Race's voice comes from outside the door, "we's keepin' you in there 'til you's talk about it."

"Talk 'bout what?" Both her and Albert ask the question, but no answer is given.

"Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..." Albert says quietly.

Their eyes had adjusted enough by now, and Y/N can see the boy biting down worriedly on his bottom lip.

"Til these idiots decide t' let us out," she responds, tapping on her thigh, "whaddya think Racer's on 'bout?"

"No idea."

His voice catches on the words, a sure fire sign that the boy is lying, and she twists her fingers in her hand. 

"Al, I-"

"I've seen the way you's look at me when you's think I don't notice," He blurts, the words hanging in the air, "er, at least, Racer's pointed it out, 'n then I started t' notice."

Her mouth runs dry. She feels her eyes fill with tears, and she backs herself against the wall.

"A-Al I..." she searches for her words, "I never meant for ya t' find out, I...I wasn't never gonna do nothing, I'm sorry."

"Are you kiddin'?" Albert laughs a bit, and she can see him run a hand through his hair in the dim light, "I's been waitin' for ya to say somethin'! Y/N, I've been in love with ya since the day you's first came t' the lodging. Didn't think you's felt the same til Racer pointed it out."

"I..." she stops, train of thought running out. 

"Kiss me."

"Al, you're drunk, we's drunk. You dunno what you's sayin'..."

"Yes I do," he whispers, taking a step closer to her, "Y/N, I 'ad a sip or two, sure, but I ain't drunk. 'N I know you ain't neither. So please, kiss me."

"Come over 'ere 'n make me," she smirks.

He does as she says, pulling her closer by her waist. Soon enough, his chapped lips are on hers, her back pressed against the wall as her hands tangle themselves in the hair on the back of his neck. He places a gentle finger under her chin, titling her head up ever so slightly.

He pulls away breathless, but before speaking she pulls him back down to her, thumb stroking his cheek bone as they kiss. 

And suddenly light fills the space, the teens pulling away to see their friends gathered around the door.

"I called it!" Jack shouts, clapping his hands once. "Henry, you's owe me a nickel."

"You bet on us?" Y/N asks.

"Who's we kiddin', course they did," Albert says, shaking his head. 

He plants a kiss on the top of her head, causing a mixture of coos and groans to fill the room.

"Oh off with all you's," Albert waves them away, smile on his face all the same.

"You're welcome," Race says as the other boys walk away, smirking like usual, "was my idea, t' lock you's two in 'ere til you's figured it out."

"Hmm," she responds, shoving Race teasingly, "suppose one day we'll thank ya, but that ain't today."

"She makes the rules," Albert shrugs, rejoining the group with his arm around Y/N's shoulders, "now, who do we's wanna torture next?"


End file.
